


The Whole World - Real Life has a Way of Intervening

by 8hephaestion8



Series: The World [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst, CMBYN - Freeform, Call me by your name, Crema, Hand Jobs, Italy, Kissing, LA, M/M, New York, Sex in a Car
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8hephaestion8/pseuds/8hephaestion8
Summary: This is fiction, I don't know these people or what really happened.  Let me repeat this is fiction, some things look close to truth but I was not there I do not know what really happened.Suffice to say there is sufficient stuff going on in the real world to inspire some fanfic.





	1. Where We Are Now

**Author's Note:**

> This first Chapter is very long. I thought about splitting it and thought better, it is more or less a complete story.

 

I made a mistake.  I see that now.  I am obsessed with him.  I cannot live without him and I cannot live with him.  My situation is fucked up.  I admit it.  I should never have accepted that part, I wasn’t meant to do it.  They only came to me when Logan dropped out fearing for his image, he comes from a conservative Jewish family, who were not happy for him to be playing Elio.  When they asked Brian if I would read with Armie, I said why not, I needed the work. 

I had the script a year before, thought I was going to be cast in a Marvel franchise and told Luca I wasn’t interested.  He was disappointed, but I was elated. However, the process between green lighting a film and actually finalising everything is tortuous, the process might still get hijacked even when filming has started.  I got into my third audition, I might have bulk up but I was in with a good chance.  Then I fucked up the next audition, not in acting terms but my physicality which is basically wrong for action scenes, they had me running and jumping, throwing punches – people were snickering openly.  I tried to persuade them that I could train, learn how to present myself physically and get my body into shape; they bought a trainer into the room, she came in took one look at me and said no, I would never be able to hold onto the weight and my frame was too small to carry  muscles naturally.  I compounded the matter when I burst into tears and begged them to reconsider, I didn’t need big muscles for the role, please re-think but my fate was sealed.  Tom Holland got the role. I was heartbroken.

I spent the next month or so, complaining and arguing with anyone who tried to reason with me, alternatively depressed, angry and basically wild.  My Mom, Nicole, could do nothing with me, I hung out at bars, picked up random people both men and women, slept with Will (another mistake), smoked weed, took Molly and stayed out all night drinking and fucking.  I had just turned twenty.

Brian called me in: “What the fuck do you think you are playing at?  People are beginning to call me and ask what happened. If you are serious about your career, this has to stop. 

I might have something to help you take your mind off your disappointment. Peter has that small film that he needs some help with, the actor scheduled has dropped out, go and see him in his office across town, get Gloria to give him a call, set up a meeting.

Look, I know how it hurt you not to get what you wanted but you have to find a way of dealing with the disappointment.  Going out late at night and whoring, is not going to help you.  Do you want me to book a session with Phylida?”

Phylida was our go to counsellor, I had already spoken with her about, well being fluid, well I thought I was, I considered myself fluid until I met him, then I knew what I really wanted.

I took the role, I knew I had to stop and that I was going to be taken out of New York into Italy, away from temptation.  I had a short commitment in a play, it was now December.  The play started rehearsals in January, went up in February and was due to finish at Easter.  Luca suggested I come out after the play finished.

“Don’t you want me to read with Armie?”

“No.  I trust my instincts, I think you will get along just fine.”

“OK…I think I would like to meet him anyway, is that alright with you?  Can you ask Gloria to set up a lunch for us.  I don’t mind doing it but you’ll have to give me his contact details he may not like that. Anyway, what are his circumstances, he’s married isn’t he?  Got a child?”

I started to ask Luca questions about Armie, he just looked at me passively.

“I would prefer if you didn’t meet with him until you are both in Italy, meetings here are so artificial, you’ll both be trying to work each other out instead of just trying to get on – if you meet there, you have no choice, you are both on neutral ground, less to lose.”

He wasn’t going to tell me what to do, if I was going to do this film, then I had to meet Armie Hammer, there was no way I was going to get stuck in Italy with someone I had never met and didn’t get on with, especially as I was going to be the youngest on set.  I asked Brian to set up the lunch, luckily Armie was due in New York for a fitting for the Oscars, I had a fitting myself that Friday.  We booked an out of the way restaurant that we both knew and whose food was good.  The Cavalier was on the Greenwich Village side of 5th Avenue, if you didn’t know the area you’d miss it, it was discreet and used widely by people who did not want to be seen.  It only served steak, all manner of potato dishes, salads (only three, green, house and mixed) and a rota of desserts, if you were lucky your favourite would be on the menu if it wasn’t and you were famous it might get made for you, if you were not famous, tough.

 

Anyway we met, had lunch. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive, I spent a good part of the meal not eating, looking at him and listening to that voice. He asked me if I wasn’t hungry, he ate from my plate, I think we were flirting, but of course I told myself that he was just being friendly.  So friendly that when we got up from the table he took my elbow and steered me out of the restaurant, he did not let go until we were on the street, then he dropped his shoulder and talked close to my ear.

“Want to go for a drink somewhere?”

“I am underage, Mr Hammer.”

“Not too young to fuck.”

I blushed.  His words went straight to my dick.

His eyes flicked over my body, and downwards.

“No.  Not too young to fuck.”

His voice was husky, it felt like it was rippling down my body and stroking my dick.

I looked deeply into his eyes, a direct look, a demand.

He straightened up.  There was a hand in the centre of my back, an intake of breath.

“Well, I cannot take you into a bar and I can’t fuck you here…so I’ll take my leave now and look forward to seeing you in Italy.”  The latter was said publicly, the former for my ears only.

He took my hand, pulled me gently into a bear hug so our fronts were touching, he knew what he was doing, he was telling me, no showing me he felt it too.  He had more control, but he was not flaccid.

 

“What is going on with him?”  I asked Brian the following week.  He glanced up at me from his desk.

“Leave him alone, he’s married, and his wife is crazy.”

“What do you mean crazy?  She’s on IG a lot, but it is mostly harmless stuff.  She comes across as loving the life, others do the same, she has her own business.  She can’t be that crazy.”

“Timothée, leave him alone, do not fuck with Armie Hammer.”  Now he was looking at me.  He knew me well, I love a challenge.  I do not give a fuck when I want something or someone.  I am patient and resolute, I have been through enough to know that time is a great healer and teacher – I can wait. Italy was coming I would see what happened.

 

I got out there a week before him and five weeks before filming started.  We had a month to get to know each other.  Luca was right, although I had a lot to do I had plenty of time to get to know him and we spent a lot of time together – there was less pressure on us (and nobody watching) we liked each other.  Simply, it was easier than making the effort to get in amongst the locals or even the crew.  I could speak French and he spoke Spanish, I was learning Italian between us we could work out what was being said or written.  He was fun, we would get a menu and try and work out what to order, he tried to widen my choice of foods.  He was more adventurous than me, I was happy with Spaghetti Bolognese or fusilli with olive oil and black pepper, he would go for the most gourmet item on the menu and work out the ingredients simply from taste.

I loved watching him eat. He devoured food, his appetite wasn’t just based on size, he loved the sensation of eating: the feel of food in his mouth, the taste from the tip of his tongue to the travel of the food around his mouth, teeth biting and testing, the joy of swallowing and after taste.  I watched him and wondered if he was the same in bed, I was furtive I would allow my body to react to him eating, my legs would fall open, I was sweating under my arms, prickly, I wanted to feel him lie on top of me, my dick would grow softly, not hard, just enough to make me on edge.

I didn’t realise he was watching me and suffering in equal proportion.

 

TFW turned up three weeks after I arrived. I left him alone.  He introduced me but I didn’t want to be near her.  I had heard enough. She had an entourage, their daughter and the nanny, a long time friend of his who was Italian American, another friend of his who was obviously gay.  They were not staying in Crema, they travelled down from Milan, they only came down for three days and then went off ‘on Tour’.

 

“I don’t fuck her.”

“You’re lying”

“Well, the occasional mercy fuck otherwise my life would be hell.”

“Why are we having this conversation?”

“You know why.”

 

Luca ignored anything extraneous to the film; he smiled at us getting to know each other, rolled his eyes at anything to do with TFW, and schmoozed with producers or anyone who could jeopardise his film.  Once filming started, both Armie and I were professional, well we were when on set. 

Our friendship progressed to flirting, from flirting to dating, from dating to fucking.  Simple as that.

Three steps.  One Night.

We had the rehearsal, the one everyone talks about.  That was nothing we were acting.

After TFW left Milan, we went out for dinner, or I should say he asked me out for dinner.  I had time to get an outfit together, have a proper shower I even had time to ask the film hairdresser to give me a trim to neaten up the hair I was growing out from the play. 

He didn’t ask me out to dinner in the formal sense, we met at the ‘house’ for an on set reconnoitre meeting with the rest of the crew.  A meeting to set boundaries and work out the rules for the run of the filming.  We all knew that once filming started feelings would be running high.  We hadn’t realised but the key members of the production team had already foreseen that we would be going beyond the boundary of a platonic relationship.  They needed to protect us.

After the meeting, he said: “Do you want to get something to eat?  Let’s go get pizza at that place in town.  I’ll pick you up at 7.30pm.”  It was Italy I could eat, drink and do what the fuck I liked.

It was just like our lunch, except it wasn’t.

 

When we set up the lunch, I didn’t really know him and Timothee did not initially attract me – he was too young, I dismissed him I was the one with experience.  I had been in two big Hollywood movies, he was junior, I treated all my co-stars politely and in a friendly manner, but he was junior, inferior to me.   I had a wife and a child, and we were considering whether we should have another. In fact the wife and I had been away on holiday before I flew out to Italy and I hadn’t used a condom the whole time we were away it was a possibility that our family would be expanded by the time the film ended, that was a kind of plan, we had to see how that worked out. 

The fuck.  When I sat down at that lunch table, I was overcome, my brains were scrambled that same itch I had when I wanted to fuck someone was on me the whole time I was with him.  I don’t know what happened.   He hadn’t said a word. I had researched him, I knew he had been in a few low-level films, also the TV show Homeland, I saw pictures of him, he looked like a youth, too callow, too young too raw.  I knew he had been up for a couple of big films, but when I met him I thought you are not made for those franchises.  You are too special.  I heard about his wilding out, I understood it I had done the same after the big films failed.  He was open, he could do what he liked, in my era I had to keep it undercover.

I sleep with men and women.  The wife doesn’t like it but I don’t ask her permission.  I realised when I was very young that I was interested in other boys, and not just for friendship. Girls were a bonus.  I had a preference, the hard lines of a man’s body just did something for me.  I got caught kissing my friend Peter, that was the first time, I was only a young teenager when that happened. I got caught a second time when a ‘friend’ came over to share homework at 16, the homework was exploring how far we could go without fucking, my mother came in when I was sucking him off.  Much consternation followed, I was accused of being in the hands of the devil, asked if I knew that the Lord would strike me down, begged to pray for forgiveness. I went along with it.  It was easier than trying to stand up for myself. 

I ran across my wife in a group of friends that were really acquaintances, we got talking, I told her about the men I had slept with, my wild exploits, I got up to some shit in my late teens and early twenties – yeah, I carried on having sex with men, took drugs, slacked off work; my mother could give me hell but she couldn’t stop me.  I also told her that I needed to get married and have children.  She laughed in my face until she was hurt by a boyfriend and in a moment of weakness agreed to marry me.  I was a little devious because I knew my mother liked her and therefore my life was set up perfectly, I liked her tremendously, I loved her but I was not in love with her, she was a good friend and she was what I needed, then. That was what I thought at the time.  We settled very comfortably into marriage. My other sexual life continued. I hadn’t counted on meeting him and I wasn’t expecting to fall in love.

I wrangled things with the wife to get to Italy early, I also told her that she would not be allowed on certain parts of the set.  Luca was very clear, the public areas were OK, the house was cast and crew only, parts of the house were private either to us or people like Luca, Peter and Walter.  He wanted to create the ambience of a home, he didn’t want the drama that having other people in the house would create.  She told me that she would still manage to get into the house as she wanted to show it on her feed so everyone could see what her life consisted – sets, red carpets, fittings, dresses, beauty treatments, children’s clothing, the normal vapid shit, but she arrived too early we hadn’t started filming.  I had managed to convince her that the schedule wasn’t fixed and that the filming dates would probably only be sorted out by the time she arrived.  She wasn’t happy when she couldn’t even get a decent place to stay in Crema, nor would Luca allow her into the house despite filming not having started.  I didn’t mind, it mean that I didn’t have to face the barrage of objections and pleading which normally worn me down.

When she turned up I had just started to seal my relationship with him, I didn’t want her around.  In fact we hadn’t started sleeping together yet, but I knew that we were going to before the end of filming.  The house was the first place that we began to examine what we mean to each other; we had rooms there – we had a bedroom, a dressing room and an en-suite, we shared everything, it was private.  At times when we weren’t needed, either he or I would go for a rest and lie down, sometimes of course we could go to the room together, we were discreet and did not misbehave or act on our feelings in the house until the Midnight scene was filmed; because we were nude for those scenes everyone knew that we were now liable to be less cautious. 

We could also go to the kitchen for drinks or snacks – Luca didn’t believe in catering vans, we had a cook who made things when required and prepared a lunch which everyone, cast or crew was welcome to attend. There was a film kitchen and proper kitchen fully kitted out.  Other rooms, mostly downstairs were dedicated to hair & make-up. Camera stuff, props and furniture.  Luca had dressed the rooms from his own property, begging from his friends and colleagues, and hiring only what was necessary.  He has exquisite taste, he knew how the house should look, it was something that he was clearly interested in and showed a skill for.

 

So two weeks before filming, we had dinner together, we had had a production meeting and everyone split to their various apartments or homes, I caught up with him as he was leaving and asked if he wanted to go for a pizza.  I said it friendly, but meant it for what it was, an opportunity to go on a date.  I gave him time to go and get ready – if he made an effort, it was clear he had picked up on what I meant.  I made an effort, something casual but smart, so did he.  He also smelt good.

He doesn’t eat much, well he eats but he tends to eat often and little, I tend to eat large and at regular times, it can cause amusement because I can eat a lot.  I can also drink a lot. He is small of frame, it doesn’t take much for him to be full or to get drunk, I have to watch myself, I put on weight easily, he can’t keep it on.  Anyway, he has simple, I am complicated; we ended up with a pizza with only one type of cheese (his), calzone, salad, a steak (mine).  He had a bottle of beer I had a bottle of wine.

Over the course of the meal, he began to really open up to me – I heard about his teenage years where he struggled to define himself, he knew he wanted men (boys) but LaGuardia was just as difficult as any other High School, there were cliques, he is small framed and didn’t fit the standard leading man prototype, he got cast in odd guy roles or the talent shows. He tried to fit in, that didn’t work, he played up his eccentricities, that didn’t work either.  He was neither one thing nor another, and everyone knew it.  He was miserable on and off until he turned 17, had grown up and started to be successful.  Suddenly, things that used to worry him were no longer important, he became attractive, grew into his looks, and both girls and boys took interest.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was probably because there are plenty of star fuckers even at that early age, and the men who were into boys were the worse.  He disabused me of my knowledge and experience, told me he turned down plenty of offers but also he did not refuse the ones which really interested him.

I felt I had to share, I told him about Peter and the other boys I had slept with – I slept with my first partner a girl (it was easier) when I was 15.  I slept with a man when I was 17, I had seriously messed around with boys before but it took until I was 17 to have full sex.  I asked when he first had full sex with a boy; 15, I was shocked. I was further shocked when he told me that he had spoken with his Mom about this, and she had given her blessing.  I never spoke to my mother about sex neither the practice nor who I was sleeping with.   She was a right-wing Christian, it wouldn’t do.

I explained how my life had changed after Harper was born.  The wife went into manic mode.  She was afraid I’d leave her.  She had her pussy tightened, major work done on her face, dyed her hair, lost a ton of weight.  I stood by and watched.  I knew women changed after marriage and after children.  The drawbridge on our experimental sex life was drawn up, it had given me relief when I couldn’t or didn’t have resources for my other sex life.  I acknowledged my sex with men to myself, I was clear how this stood with me.  The wife knew this and caused me a great of difficulty. I had told her about it, she put it to one side and would not acknowledge it was important to me and I couldn’t easily get out of the marriage I needed her, or so I thought.  She was jealous, not of the men I had sex with, but of the women I worked with, I didn’t know how to rationalise this.  She actually made it a condition of our marriage that I not kiss any female co-stars, I became a laughing stock because most people also knew or suspected I preferred men. In addition, she was demanding, mouthy, and wanted the full celebrity lifestyle, this also got in the way of my career, my co-stars were wary of her, and studios had to build in accommodating her on set or on promotion – she became known for being ‘thirsty’ for fame and power. I didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with this, she had changed significantly. 

I never opened up to anyone the way I did with him, Timothée made me feel like he had not only my heart but my best interests in mind, there was nothing I could do or say that would change his mind about me nor would he judge me.  Anything I did was OK by him.  This observation started on the day I landed in Italy and has never wavered.

He sat passively listening to this, I realised how much I wanted to talk about this, this was the first time I had voiced my feelings. He made no judgements, only took my hand and caressed it in sympathy.

Shall we go back to my apartment for a night cap?

I said yes.  I didn’t want the nightcap.  I wanted him.

He didn’t sleep with me that night, it was the following morning – we woke up wrapped up in each other, it was natural, warm and comforting – bodies having sex before minds were switched on.  We had agreement without talking about it, why waste time?

Luca noticed later that day that our closeness had marched on significantly, he merely observed us with fondness.  Peter Spears was less than happy, he saw it immediately too, he called Brian. Brian was pragmatic, things would work out as they would. He just pointed out to Timothée the difficulties we now faced, not on set or on promotional tour, but where we heading when everything was over.  He spoke to me. He wanted me to put to a boundary on the relationship, was it an on-set romance or something he had to deal with?  Was I just another older actor taking advantage of a younger co-star?  Or was this real ? I spoke with Timothée we couldn’t answer, we just knew that what we felt was profound. It wasn’t just about sex.  If it were only sex, we would know what it was – time limited, liable to run out of steam.  I knew from the lunch alone, that I was headed into uncharted waters, I was his first true love and first loves don’t last, do they?  There were deep things to consider on both sides.

Filming passed in a blur of time and activity.  The wife came back towards the end of filming, fully intending to go onto Milan for the fashion shows.  I told her I had to be focussed and needed to be in the same apartment any change now would be stressful, I got her a suite at the best hotel which was just outside Crema.  She was suspicious but because my co-star was Tim she was disarmed.  We carried on as normal, until we had leave Crema for Lake Garda and Bergamo – cast and crew protected us, our secret was kept.  Then I had to leave Tim to go with her to the hotels we had booked.  That was the start.  My body craved him.  Then the thoughts came in.  Who was he with? 

I couldn’t bear her touch, I didn’t bother hiding how I felt, I pushed her away, she could not come near me.  Harper slept with her, I slept in Harper’s room, I changed our bookings to two double rooms to ward off suspicion, luggage and things bought an excuse. It was now that I began to realise that I wasn’t in a position to have the relationship and that I should never have started one with him.  I was married, had one child and another on the way, I needed this film to be successful because my career was stagnating, fuck, I should never have given in.  But I couldn’t have helped myself, I fell in love – all that stuff fell to the wayside when I was with him, I was the giddy fool head over heels in love.  All the old fears came back.  I wasn’t good enough either for the film or for him.  What was the point in carrying on? It was all going to go to shit. Luca had a job on his hands closing out the film, I was in fact dealing with a grief precipitated by the ending of filming. A grief that lasted until I saw Timothee again at Sundance in early 2017.

The wife was confused, she had no context.  Timmy stood back, wanting to help but he couldn’t spend any time with me, I was lost without understanding why or how to deal with what was going on.  The only person who could deal with me was Luca, he had to because he had two responsibilities, one to get the film finished, the other to protect Timothee.  He sat me down on our first night in Bergamo, we had dinner just the two of us.

 

“What do you want Armie?”

I gulped.  I couldn’t speak.

“Come on Armie, we have gone past the stage where you have to hide things from me.  I know you are in a relationship with Timmy.  Everyone here can see it.  We can see you care very much for each other.  Your marriage is something you will have to deal with.  What do you want?”

He was kind and gentle with me.  Luca can be voluble when required, boisterous and fun loving, now because he did care for me, he wanted to help me.  I understood what I needed I just didn’t know how to get it.  It was simple, dump my previous life and jump into a new one.  I had lived so long in one world inhabited by my family, their values, happily married couples with children if not married certainly settled with nothing to look forward to except the guarantee of having a companion who was expected to be around for the duration. I had been offered a couple of roles in films which ‘were right up my street’; businessmen with a lot of extra curricula activity very similar to my natural environment, and so too close.  Heterosexual, normal, what everyone else does.  Everything manageable and predictable.  Except when I met Timothee the fucking lightbulb had gone on in my head and there were things clearly lit now that I could not handle.  The first of these was the wanton consumption of my wife, the flights, lifestyle, desire for the benefits that a celebrity life drew had created a aura of disgust that was becoming apparent but which I did not know how to break free from.  This situation was the first thing I had to deal with.  I do not desire things, I understood the industry, appearance is everything – I could do the fittings and occasional treatments that went with the job but the façade of a happy family was fast becoming unbearable.  Luca wanted to peel the layers away, but he had to break off the hard shell I had created in order to live within the carapace of Hollywood.

I was very clear.  I wanted Tim.  It would take time.  A plan was needed.  Difficult times lay ahead.

“Tell him.”

I fell still.

“I can’t”

“Why not?”

“I will take a good part of his life away, while I sort out my situation.  Besides which, how do I know that he isn’t just infatuated?  He is only 20, he is a child.

Sure, we click – I don’t know Luca, is that just being enraptured?  I feel like I lose all sense of myself when he is near.  My breath is short, my physicality is affected, something presses on me, I want him in any sense of the word. Is that enough? 

I have children – I compare the love I have for them with the love I have for him. And I don’t know if I should be comparing the two, they are such very different things.  The question is, would I give up as much to be with him as I would to protect my children?”

“The answer is in your heart Armie, and you know the answers to the questions you are posing.  Your first and true instinct knows what is best for you even if that means causing pain to people that you are close to.  Consider who you love and why you love him or them, and what you need and can you live without.  Your answer is there.  The pain you need to go through is there also.  You have lived a double live for many years now.  Hollywood is not kind, consider this if your life as a closeted gay man is negotiable and bearable you have a chance, if isn’t leave Tim alone.  He deserves the opportunity to live his own life free of your problems, if you care for him, tell him or leave him alone and be prepared, he may decide that it is not worth the aggravation of splitting you from your wife. 

You need to understand his context, does he want what you are offering? Who else is he fucking?  Does he have a boyfriend in New York? Have you asked?

If you need to, work out with Tim how your relationship plays out in the media, you need to discuss that with him before we start promoting the work, these things overlap – don’t leave it until you are in the situation, you cannot have a clear head in that circumstance.  I shall always be ready to listen or give an opinion – you have to make up your own mind, and even if it is not satisfactory, better to make a false step, regroup and start from where you have arrived in your journey, do not go back to the beginning or nothing will ever change.

Talk to your father, he has understanding, he has a woman he believes in and loves, he has always followed his heart, yes?

You have already made a decision, no?”

 

“Are you fucking him?”

I kept my counsel I was going to do the Spring festival circuit, it was my chance to get to know Tim again and discover if what I thought was real was indeed so. She was staying at home to look after the babies.  I was free.

“No.  Are you dreaming, he is my friend, we are close we are not fucking.”

“Well, you aren’t fucking me, so you must be fucking someone else…who is it?  You know I only have to ask Nicki…or Ashton”

She left it there like a threat.  I hadn’t told Nicki either.  It was none of their fucking business.  Ashton was my friend not hers, I told him things I did not tell either of them.  I had to have someone to talk to about this.

At some point I would have to tell her but not now.  I went to Sundance the next day, I was all adrift, I hadn’t seen him for weeks, would he feel the same?

 

Sony had booked us into a lodge.  We were all staying in one place – Luca & Fernandino, Peter & Brian, Howard, Nicole & Evelyn, Michael, Timmy & I – Peter and Brian were married, Luca and Fernandino partners, they each had doubles, the girls were sharing, everyone else had their own rooms it was going to be awkward, Tim and I couldn’t just disappear.  We needed a strategy.  Luca watched on. I had flown in before Tim, Luca pre-empted meeting the others, the hostess was busy making sure all my luggage was in, I was still recovering from my operation.  I didn’t have much stuff, just one large bag and one formal suit in a dedicated suit bag, it was cold, most of the interviews were informal, luckily only the premiere needed a formal suit.

“What is the problem?”

I blinked. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say.

“I want to spend time with him when we are away from the red carpet and interviews.  It’s too noticeable.”

“You are in adjoining rooms Armie, we knew that you might want to share discreetly or you can both choose to keep the door locked, we are going to give him the key, just so you know.”

“Oh…OK”

He walked in, looked at me nonchalantly, walked over, put his arms around my neck, reached up and kissed me on the mouth.  Everybody and everything disappeared. We would be sharing discreetly.

 

“Did you arrive safely?”

“Hi Elizabeth, yes everything is fine, AA laid on additional help for me and when I got here Bertha, the hostess had organised everything for me.  It’s all OK.  How are the babies?”

“Ford is still having problems latching on – it’s a bit tiring I am up with him at night, Hops is fine.  Nana has got her now.”

Nana was the nanny, her real name was Velma but Hops couldn’t say it properly.

“What’s the lodge like?  What’s your room like, do you have an ensuite?  Where is Timmy?  Are you sharing?”

“That’s a lot of questions.  Everything is fine.”

I wasn’t going to go into detail, that way lay trouble.  I wasn’t stupid I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep track of the lies.

He unlocked the door into my room, came in and sat on the bed beside me.  An arm extended round my waist, because of the damaged arm, I couldn’t reciprocate, he took advantage and brought his hand round to my thigh, and started stroking. I couldn’t help it, an intake of breath, my breathing became ragged. He was smirking, and simultaneously licking his lips.

“What’s that?”

My dick waking up, I hadn’t had sex since…well it seemed like forever.

He lifted up my shirt and sweater, skin bared he started licking my back, the ridge of bones in the centre down to the waist band of my trousers, started pulling at the belt to undo it, stopped, had a thought and went to lock both external doors.

She could hear him moving around, doors being locked.

“Look Liz, I am being called into a meeting, we are going to go over the schedules for the few days we are here.  I’ll call you later.”

“He’s there, isn’t he?”

An unsettled pause, I opened my mouth to tell a lie but couldn’t.  She may as well realise that Tim was going to share my room – she wasn’t stupid, she knew that meant sex.  I hadn’t fucked her since my return home.  I tried, the equipment wasn’t having it, she was pregnant, I had to work through my feelings on this, and I owned the fact that I was fundamentally not straight and my preference was for men – namely, Tim.  Ford had been born on the 15th, the premiere was a week later. Again I left home early, I arrived with the others on the evening of the 20th, there was nothing planned for the evening, but there was some talk of group dinner at the local ‘pub’, arrive when ready – the intention was to stay until about 10.00pm, so we didn’t have to all be there until  8.00pm and could risk not turning up at all, although this was probably not a good idea given that all the key producers were going to be present.

I had been compromising my whole life, but I didn’t know how the future was going to work out except the compromising would need to cease, whether that was following an open sexually fluid life or engaging fully in a gay lifestyle, was not yet clear to me.

 

We did not communicate much between the final end of the production, which was September, and Sundance we didn’t know what to do – both of us were knocked sideways, he had a film to do so he had something to concentrate on, to draw his mind off our problem and it was our problem, not his nor mine, I sat at home monosyllabic, skittish, inconsistent in tone and behaviour, there were text messages and email but as Sundance drew near we knew we had to talk, so at the end of November I FaceTimed him and that was it, the relationship resumed without actually meeting.  Every day a phone call, video call or FaceTime session, many text messages, private twitter and private IG.  Elizabeth was aware we were communicating but it was not until late December that she realised the extent of our communication, she was fucked off, I didn’t care – I had already told her that I slept with men, the only difference here was one man that had taken my heart, Tim was non-negotiable, a permanent fixture in my life.

A way had to be found.

“Yes.”

The line went dead.

I’d deal with that when I had to.

 

“How much time do we have?”

“It’s only five, we need to be leaving at 7.30pm if we are aiming to get there for 8.00pm”

“Do you need a shower? Do you want me to help you get undressed or washed?”

“Yes please”

“Yes please to what?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

 

After he had helped me shower, we lay down for a nap – setting the alarm for 7.00pm.  We made the mistake of hitting the snooze button, when I woke up again it was 8.30pm, looks passed between us and agreement, we were staying in.  I called Bertha and asked if she could make us some sandwiches, and to bring them to my room – I also asked for chips and some beers.  Tim got out his MacBook and we watched Netflix, he had one of those gadgets that threw up the image on the ceiling, we lay down again and the next time we woke up it was 11.00pm.  The house was quiet – everyone had gone to their respective rooms.  We had been tired but now our bodies were rested, just needed to be careful to set the alarm for morning, our first press junket was at 10.00 we both needed breakfast or major grumpiness would follow.

We were awake and ready for sex.

“Take off your boxers”

“I need your help. I only have one good hand remember.”

“What if I wasn’t here?”

“We have had that conversation. I can get most things, you have to help.”

His eyes glistened.

“I’m gonna fuck you.”

“Clearly, that is not going to happen.  I only have one hand that works.”

“Clearly you didn’t hear me. It is going to happen, turn over, spread your legs.”

I was kinda frightened.  It has been a long time and I was used to taking the lead.  He had stepped up because I was effectively disabled.

He rolled me over, propped me sideways with a pillow and helped settle my arm.  If someone else pulled the arm out, it was less painful, I had to have it just lying alongside or across my body.  My good arm, the left was free.  I was dead weight, I couldn’t put my own body weight on the arm, nor could I lift it above shoulder height.

He split my ass and buried his face, his tongue took in a swathe between my balls and my hole.  He left the hole alone, his mouth and tongue touched everywhere else, he bit tightly into my ass, nipped me on the soft tissue near my hole. I revelled in his touch.

“Tim...wait…fuck”

I made some soft sounds, unmistakably related to sex.

I hoped everyone else had gone to bed and sleeping.

“OK, that’s enough…I won’t be able to keep quiet…I am gonna make too much noise…it has been a long time Timmy…Stop…Jesus…Fucking…Christ…”

He ignored me and carried on.

“Fuck…Motherfucker…you Son of a Bitch…Stop…”

“Wait a minute…”

He slapped me, roughly stroked my ass and bent over the side of the bed.  Retrieved a bottle of lube.

“Shit…”

I could still feel his tongue and the heat of the slap, my hole was clenching and unclenching, the muscles in my body felt like they were drawing in, craving his dick.

“What’s the matter?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I am preparing you to be fucked.”

“Tell me what you are going to do…”

“I am going to stick my finger deep into your ass

Then I am going to press another in

And finger fuck you

Until your hole can take my dick

I am going to take one of your balls into my mouth, then the other, then lick and suck both

I remember you liked that

While I do that I shall take my hand and grasp hold of your dick

I am going to use my tongue to lick and swipe your dick

take as much of you as I can down my throat

You’re going to feel the back of my mouth

the opening of my throat

And you are going to be still

So you have the most sensation I can give you

I am going to suck you until you are nearly ready to come

You can’t come without my permission

You are going to beg me to make you come

I shall take the end of your dick into my mouth and I am going to suck it hard

I shall pulse you with my mouth

I am going to taste you, use my tongue to feel all around the hood of your dick

Hard swipes of your frenulum, lips rubbing until your crown is stretched hard

and suck and suck and drink any liquid that comes out of your dick

I am going to use one hand to pull and twist your dick

My mouth returns to your ass

You’ll feel my tongue round your ass and in your ass

I shall taste you, smell you

I am going to drink you in

Inhale you so you are in me before I come in you

Then I am going to fuck you hard”

 

I couldn’t breathe, my heart was racing, I was waiting for him to do what he wanted with me.

I submitted to him.

A slick finger pressed directly into my ass, it was soon joined by another…

 

I was shamefaced when we went down to breakfast.  He looked fucked out, rosy, happy, soft.  He had no filter, he was content, he didn’t know how to lie or put a different face on how he felt. I could see how it looked.  The others were understanding and yet chiding.  By the look on my face everyone could see I could not help whatever was going on between us, I tried to say sorry without using the words.  He was beyond caring,

“How was the meal?”

Luca spoke.   “Not good. You didn’t miss anything.  But we would have loved your company.” 

He left it at that.  I felt I had to give some kind of explanation and I didn’t bother pretending we were in our respective rooms.

“We fell asleep, woke with the alarm, snoozed and then it was too late to come out.  Bertha made us something to eat.  We didn’t even hear you come in, fell asleep again.”

Howard snorted. “Sleep, is that what they call it now?”

“Armie is right.  We did fall asleep, snoozed the alarm and next thing we knew it was nearly nine.   Plus we haven’t seen each other in person for a long time, and I want to spend time with him. I’d rather spend time with him than you. We are meant to be together, and one way or another will be. You better get used to this and you better find ways to accommodate us.

Armie what do you want for breakfast? I’ll get it for you.” 

No fucks given, he moved off to the table which was laden with breakfast goods.

My boy, my love, not embarrassed and not accepting any shame.

Everyone shuffled around, then figuratively shrugged shoulders and gave up, it was what it was, essentially nothing had changed.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see Nicole and Evelyn catch a glance at each other, they knew they had a job on their hands.

 

 

I gave him his Cartier bracelet on Valentine’s Day 2017. We were in Berlin for the Berlinale.  We both arrived on Friday, a day before the others and booked ourselves in a suite at the Berlin Das Stue Hotel, it was a smallish boutique hotel and we were not well known, so it suited us perfectly.  We could come and go without being noticed and the hotel staff were discreet, efficient and friendly.  We ended up staying there for the rest of our stay.  The others stayed at the Adlon Kempinski, a more traditional central hotel, Peter and Evelyn were living in fear that we would do something reckless.  Well we did feel like we were under the radar, so we were not as cautious as later during the promotional tour.  Some heart eyes, eye fucking and furtive fondling in public ensued.

My arm was no longer restricted.  I’d gone home between festivals but I was worse than useless.  I didn’t want to be there.  Elizabeth was forever raising her eyes to heaven, plus she was already trying to get things back to normal despite still bearing the signs of a recent pregnancy, it was fucking tiring.  I could not wait to go to Berlin and see Timmy.  She waved me off. 

“Off to see your fuck buddy.”

“Elizabeth”

She was resentful and jealous.  Understandable really.  She had a toddler and baby to care for.  I still wasn’t communicating well with her, the only person I cared about, front and centre, was him.  I did not look closely at possible reasons for this, I didn’t want to examine thoughts in my head about the very possible difficulty I may have been having with the birth of my son, the thing with him started before I knew anything about the gender of my child, I barely knew she was pregnant, it wasn’t associated.  That was the end of the discussion in my head.  The timing in all ways was, just unfortunate.

 

Nicki was also jealous and he did not approve. Jealous because he knew he had lost his confidant and possible access to his best buddy. I was away a lot, he was close to Elizabeth, in fact he stood in for me at home, he came to events with me when these were in LA.  He was my Plus One + Plus One. He wasn’t just looking out for me, he was also looking out for Elizabeth.

He was closeted, his mother did not know her darling Nicki had had many one night stands and short-term boyfriends.  She was always asking when he would get married, he fobbed her off and she never asked the penetrating question: “Why haven’t you had any serious girlfriends?”

“What is so special about him?”

“I don’t know Nicki.  He’s just Tim.  I felt something for him the moment I met him, I just didn’t know where it was going to go.”

“So, are you going to closet?”

Damn.

That was something else I had put to one side. I was hiding certain things from the public anyway, this was just one more step on that path. Or, at least I was trying, Elizabeth kept broadcasting our life on fucking IG.  At some point we were going to get caught out. Now I had one more thing to monitor.

“I take it you haven’t worked out how this is going to play out in future?  How are you going to fit him into your life?  And, how prepared is he to put up with the shit that is needed to keep your relationship going, let alone secret?  This is really stupid Armie.  You have a lovely wife, two perfect children which you are going to jeopardise for an infantile love of a boy.”

This was Brian redux.

Now I was furious.  Before I spoke a rift with my best friend into life, I looked him into his face.

“You don’t understand.”

I walked off.

“That is fucking typical.”

Truth was I didn’t know how this was going to play out.  I had to have the talk with Tim.

 

I didn’t talk to Timmy, I invited him to stay with us over the Summer.  

He accepted.

Elizabeth was furious but she had no choice, it was that or me spending more time out of the house, he was going to be in LA over the summer and I would have gone where he was regardless of what she thought. Evelyn persuaded her it was for the best in the short term, and for a long time nobody knew he was there, he even came on holiday with us.  It only got out after he had vacated the guesthouse, that he had been staying with us; we had contrived some privacy and I got to spend a lot of time with him.

 

The Autumn promotional tour proceeded, we carried on as in the Spring, sharing hotel rooms at festivals and events, outside those formal activities meeting where we could, fucking where we could.  It was not satisfactory.

There were a couple of times when the PR campaign to keep up the appearance of a settled marriage, actually put him in a bad light.  It genuinely caused me pain. The fans were rightly furious with me, perceiving me to have as they put it, thrown him under the bus to falsely preserve the idea that I was a happily married man with two great children and a desirable wife; they were not wrong. 

Meanwhile Elizabeth’s IG postings showed what bollocks this facade was, our red carpet appearances steadily worsened and the speculation about he and I bloomed and did not waver – in a positive way, we became Charmie, a shippers’ OTP not only for fans but for the media, we became poster boys for magazines and online sites, our photos were used for film festivals and industry events, it was unheard of.  

 

“Armie, what is happening?”

This question became tedious, I was being asked by him, by Elizabeth, by Nicki, by Brian, and by Evelyn.  Even my father started asking questions about my marriage in an oblique way.

I gave each of them the same answer, in different styles and content.

“I don’t know.”

I was confused.  My marriage was over but I didn’t know how to end it.  I wanted to move on with Timmy, to see him regularly to be in the same place on a regular basis not the odd day each month or odd days over even longer periods. I wanted to protect him from public enquiry and from the industry.  I didn’t know how.

I was lying to myself.  It was simple really, truth was I was scared.

 

Evelyn was brutal.

“You are senior to him.  We protect you first.  You have to promote your marriage, your marriage is happy, right?

 

Elizabeth turned possum.

“You know I love you right, I only want what will make you happy.  Take your time, we don’t need to rush into a decision.  We have spent time building what we have, we can get back what we had before, we only need time to work things through.”

 

Nicki was selfish.

“I don’t understand you, you are not the person I thought you were.  You used to be honest and trustworthy. You have not thought of the impact on us, your family and closest friends, we supported you when you were a nobody in the acting game.  We were here before and you are going to need us when this all goes to shit. Remember that”

 

Ashton was a true friend.

I don’t care what you decide or want or do.  I will always have your back, just say the word and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.

 

Dru used faith

“Marriage is a fundamental element of Christian life, it is sacrament.  You must do everything to preserve your marriage Armie. Do not deprive your children of a loving environment.  Jesus will guide you.  The Lord loves you Armie, you will be safe, you only have to put your trust in the Lord.  Pray Armie, pray for guidance and follow the Lord.”

 

My father had nothing to add, he had already taken the route of love in his life, simultaneous and monogamist.  He just promised to help me manage my money and my properties, some of which Liz and I jointly owned. He knew which way this was going.  He was no more than true to himself.  From this I learnt that I had to be selfish and just take what I wanted.  He told me nothing that I did not know already.

 

Brian was pragmatic, and the only one who tempered what he said with truth.  Luca’s words came to mind as he spoke.

“You are going to lose him if you do not come to a decision.  What do you really want Armie? 

People come into our lives for a reason and we have to be able to recognise that and work out what to do.  When I met Peter I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I knew why he had to be in my life and I knew I couldn’t do without him.

We did not have the same issues that you have, we were both out and single, it is not easy being a gay man and it is not easy declaring your love in a world where it is normal to be straight.  You love him right?  Are you going to pass on the chance to be truly happy? Or, are you content with what you have?  Only you know. I think you know what you have to do, you do don’t you? I’ll help you anyway I can but remember, Timmy is my client, and I am very fond of him…very fond. I have to protect him. He is my priority.”

 

I grew anxious and withdrew even more from the marriage. Finally after being forced to spend time away from him over Christmas and New Year going into 2018, I put my foot down, and told them all I was done, done with the marriage, done with any bullshit.  He was what I wanted, I would have him in my life, I was committed, regardless of emotional pain or financial cost.

And they all just better work out how to manage that process.

 

It seemed like a good idea.  Share our publicists reduce conflict, and mostly it worked but every so often I ended up being the person being left holding the ball, and the ball quite often were fans breaking the fourth wall. Most fans are respectful, some are not – disrespect centred on my relationship with him normally after we were pictured together at an event.  There are many pictures and videos of us, shiny eyed and looking close, we can’t help it. But trouble arose when Elizabeth posted on social media to counter speculation.  The resolution was for him to post spousal support in social media; a couple of times it landed on my IG or was directly associated to me.  This was the kind of shit I had to deal with.

 

<I am going to post something>

<The Fuck, what? What are you going to say? I hope it doesn’t involve me.>

<I have to post something saying that everyone is dreaming.  Point out I am still married…>

<Wait…Where?>

<Your IG>

<Why mine?>

<That is where the comment is >

<Armie, I have never minded, but it seems that when you want to protect Liz I am the person suffering collateral damage.  Are you with me or her?  What do you want?  You can’t keep doing this.  If you post, I will have to do something>

The next message came by return.

<Do what you have to do>

I didn’t speak to or contact him for several weeks.   He tried variously calling and texting me, he would have to manage.  I could wait.  I put my hand to use a good number of times that week and the weeks that followed and I could justify it, namely I had no-one around who could help me.  He was mainly in LA I was mainly in NYC.  The fucker would have to dry his head on his own.

 

I reverted to normal life, I started going out with my friends  I didn’t wait in nor did I keep my phone to hand; I drank, I didn’t whore but I was not shy.  The way I saw it he didn’t fucking care.  Only his reputation was important.  He couldn’t fucking have it all ways round. We were back to my being the junior client and he the senior, in any version of their truth his reputation came first – I was just the kid who lucked out with a good film that had buzz. A member of an are they or aren’t they couple, a shipper’s delight. Not one thing or another, in other words merely some possible not confirmed piece on the side.  Not to be taken seriously.

One night I went to a bar with Will, got chatting to and picked up a random person, we fucked, I enjoyed it and it satisfied a need.  I sent him a picture of her back.  I am twenty-two, I am not dependent on him, I had a life before him and I know how to make a new one without him – I know my worth.  It wasn’t just about reputation it was also how he treated me after these outbursts.  He was ashamed but he followed the advice of his publicist rather than working out what he actually wanted.  And that fucking publicist also did work for Elizabeth, the joint representation was proving to be a double-edged sword.

He was going on holiday with his wife and he was still fucking her.  He said he wasn’t, he was fucking lying.  What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. I’d show him. I am not here for his shit.

 

His plane landed and he flew out the next day to New York to see me.

“What are you doing here?”

The random person had been staying on and off over the last couple of weeks.  He had just missed her.  She was a few years older than me and she was fucking amazing in bed.  We knew we were just fuck buddies, I liked her enough to fuck her, I didn’t want any more and she was in the business, she knew what was what, I wouldn’t have any problems with her when we stopped fucking.  In fact it might even be helpful if she blabbed.

“Are you going to let me in?”

I stood aside. He walked through and I closed the door.

“Who are you fucking?”

“That’s none of your business.  You are in no position to tell me what to do or ask about that.”

He came in, looked around, breathing in the atmosphere and aroma of the room.

The apartment needed airing, it smelt of unwashed bodies and clothes that had not been laundered.  I am untidy, there were things lying on the floor or untidily on surfaces, the kitchen area had random cutlery, dishes and cups on the drainer – pairs of them, he had stayed before he wasn’t surprised.

“How long?”

“What?”

“Don’t play games with me.  How long have you been fucking him?”

“Who?”

Now he was beyond mad.

“Him, is it Will?”

I started laughing.

“If that is all you came round for, you can fuck right off.”

He turned on his heel and walked out.

 

I had to get out.  I was either going to punch him or start crying.  I was…I didn’t trust myself…my feelings were too high…I hadn’t worked out why I had flown in to see him.  I wanted to say I’d come to a decision but I still wasn’t clear what it all meant or spoken to anybody who could actually action my intention. Thoughts darted across my mind.  I stood against a wall outside his apartment block.  People were looking at me. It was Winter I was dressed for Summer. I got up and walked to the hotel I’d booked, I extended my booking for another three nights.  That took me to Friday, when I had to fly back to give an interview.  I was still in my holiday clothes – fuck, I needed a jacket or coat, I’d get one delivered, the warmth of the Caymans hadn’t quite left me.  On the way I bought a bottle of vodka, I was going to get drunk. 

I was shocked he wasn’t pleased to see me.  I hadn’t done anything wrong.  I knew he thought I was still sleeping with Elizabeth and he was wrong.  I had stopped after Crema, my only fault was a lack of communication, I never actually said I am not sleeping with her or when it actually stopped.  I let things happen, ideas run on and I relied on people I paid to run my life, well they weren’t running my life they were running how it looked.  I was beginning to see that how things looked  or was manipulated to look was in fact having a detrimental effect on my real life and had already had a detrimental effect on my relationship with him.  I thought he knew that having a façade was a necessary part of being in Hollywood. I didn’t tell him not to pay attention to what I posted in relation to my marriage – that was all farce.  I hadn’t realised that it didn’t have to be this way – I was still operating on the basis that how things appeared was more important than real life. It looked real but was a dressing which Evelyn thought would protect us.  In the short time I had got to the hotel and back to my room I realised that a façade is one thing and not showing what was going on was another.  He always withdrew from SM when he was working or with me.  For him SM was a method of communicating and that did not have to include revealing who he was spending time with or what was happening in his personal life. If he dropped a hint it had meaning.

I got to the hotel, dumped the alcohol and went straight back to his apartment, I took a cab, it was fucking cold.  This time he just let me in, no words, just buzzed me in and his door was open.

“So, have you worked out why you have come this time?”

“I am going to divorce her.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“I asked a question, do me the courtesy of replying please.”

The little fuck was getting beyond himself.  He registered my anger, and pressed on.

“OK. Let me ask you another question.  How does that affect me?”

“Why are you being so fucking difficult?”

“Another question.  OK, Why should I care?  I have many variations of the same question.  Keep going.  I won’t stop asking until you tell me what is going on.”

“Look, I am tired, I just literally came off a flight from the Caymans, I came here because I realised that I can’t carry on like this any more.  I want to spend time with you.  I am not fucking her.  I have not fucked her since May of last year, since she told me she was possibly pregnant.

I don’t care if you are fucking anyone, or if you fucked someone, I know it is just fucking.  I can see that what you are doing is a response to all this, my marriage, the way you are being treated and the reaction of fans and media.  If you want me to wait until you finish with him then I’ll wait – unless it is serious, then tell me and I’ll go away.  I am still going to divorce her. 

What do you want Tim?  I know I want you.  If you want to be with me I can’t tell you it is going to be easy.  It won’t be.  I have lots of things to sort out and the children to make arrangements for. I am married and I have children, those are facts. If you can’t wait or don’t want to wait then tell me.  I won’t waste your time. 

You know my background and what happened in the past.  I can’t unwrite that.  I have to live with it and that means that if you stay with me you will have to live it too.  I can’t be separated from what happened in the past.  It is part of what and who I am now.

You should also know that there will be some fuckery going on with managing our careers, some kind of shit will have to happen there and you definitely won’t like that.  It is going to cost us plenty to be together.

But I am clear, I am going to divorce her, and I love you, and I want you in my life.  I just need to know where I am with you.  Speak.”

“That’s a very nice speech Armie.  I am going to this make clear and simple. Now you have to show me what it means.  I am not going to take your kind words as evidence that you care for me.

If you cared for me you would not make those comments in social media and put me in a bad light.

I don’t care if you are divorced or not.  It doesn’t prove anything to me.  I would still love you.  I would still want to be with you.  You have to spend time with me, make time for me.  You are married. We are both working, we can’t be together all the time. Some kind of façade or appearance has to be maintained.

Have you forgotten that we have already been together for nearly a year anyway, I got used to the absences what I never got used to was not knowing when I would see you again.  You would literally meet me, fuck me and run back home.  I am not your fuck baby.  You have to spend time with me and it has to be planned, no more I am running into town, come and meet me I only have one night, come to the hotel, this is the room.

Fuck off, no more of that shit.  I can get sex any time I want, you know that.

I know if you divorce, you have make settlement, you told me you have a pre-nup, I know you will have to sort that out, make custody arrangements.  I am young I am not stupid.

What I want from you is simple, commitment, that means regular communication, planned arrangements to meet, proper dating of a kind.  I know you can’t acknowledge me publicly, but you have to acknowledge me to people who matter. Once you have told everybody who matters that you are divorcing, you have to make me your formal partner to those same people.  And you make it clear that I am not the cause of your divorce, if anything I am a symptom.  Your marriage was shit before you even met me, that’s true isn’t it?

And my fuck buddy is a woman, and we are just fucking, and I will carry on fucking her until you actually commit to me.  I won’t sleep with you until we are formally dating and we are exclusive.”

“Tim, please stop fucking her. I didn’t mean what I said, I was trying to be reasonable but I can’t bear it.  I am not fucking Elizabeth.  I am exclusive to you, I am not going to share you physically nor emotionally. As far as I am concerned you are mine, your body, your regard and your love are mine.  It hurts me to think of you having sex with someone else.  I feel it in my gut, in my heart and in my head. I cannot bear it.”

“Mine, what kind of fuckery is that?  Mine. I am not your possession. You can’t tell me what to do.  And you’re contradicting yourself, one moment you don’t mind who I fuck, the next you do. But remember this - I can fuck who I like.

You’ve had plenty of time to get me to a point where I knew exactly what you had planned.  You have had plenty of time to discuss our relationship with me, to work out what we both wanted or needed. Instead we have been going between, I don’t even know what to call it, dates, hook-ups, meeting etc without understanding what we were doing and you expect me to just accept what you say and change my behaviour to fit in with what you think is going to work for you.  What about me?  You can’t possess me, and you have to earn my commitment.”

 

I began to realise that whilst I had never taken Tim for granted, I had coasted along thinking he was OK with what had been happening and when he wasn’t, that it was only a matter of a few days and a few calls to set us back to happiness and contentment.  He is by nature easy going, considerate and polite.  That is just how he is. I had a lot of work to do here as well.  I wanted him so I had to change, and change my approach.  It was not just us, there was the wider family group, including his parents and sister.  I had kind of ignored that.  I thought that the only thing that mattered was us, and that it was us against my family and my wife.  How could I have been so stupid?

 

Truth was, when Armie called me ‘mine’ I was overjoyed.  For someone who was articulate, learned and capable of following the most complex logical argument, he could be as dense as a block of wood where his emotions were concerned and making sure that the people he loved were on the same page as him.  I have seen him being jealous, not of my success but physically and simply, my company – if anyone laid a hand on me or made me laugh in his company, he had a second sense, his head immediately lifted and his eyes latched onto me. That was one thing, not the same, here I read it as him claiming me, I was his.  But I had to wake him up to what commitment was, not what he was used to, which was commitment based on what he could give as a result of his role in the family, and not was his due and should receive as a partner and son. We had something deep and intense, but he had never expressed commitment in a way that showed that he had understood what it was; it was just taken that I would be around and deal with his shit, and basically the shit normally arose from something that was happening with him or his fucking wife. We had to be constantly proving that he was happily married and that we were all good friends, and that was the shit that had to be dealt with, that this was normal.  I no longer would deal or put up with that. I also now completely understood why Brian had told me to stay away from him and his crazy wife.

“Can I stay?”

“Where’s your stuff?”

“I left it at the hotel.”

“Fetch it.”

 

He stayed with me the whole time he was in New York, how we never got seen I don’t know because we went about our business quite openly.  The snow storm helped, it meant he couldn’t go back to LA when he wanted to, and attention was on the weather, not some out of town actor with the wrong clothes for the weather.

 

We’ve moved on, I didn’t sleep with that girl again.  He realised that a bit of planning didn’t deny spontaneity, he also realised he had to take a chance with me. He was trying to live in some kind of limbo, not married and not committed taking advice but not following any, only going with who ever was shouting loudest to avoid conflict even if that meant that one piece of advice contradicted another.  At times I still had to stand by and navigate shit.

We have some work to do – what we have for now is OK. The major awards season was just starting, we would be spending a lot of time together, it was what happened after this that would tell.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Milestones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like there have been milestones in my journey with Armie.  Some of them you know.  We have other moments away from the cameras which you would not have seen because until the film officially opened in late 2017, nobody was watching us and it meant that we had a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, I don't know these people or what really happened. Let me repeat, this is fiction, some things look close to truth but I was not there I do not know what really happened.
> 
> Suffice to say there is sufficient stuff going on in the real world to inspire some fanfic.

 

 September 2017

“Are you going to London?”

I turned to look at her.  I couldn’t believe she was asking me that question.  The film was part of the festival, of course I was going to London.  I answered with my face, no words were needed.

“Shall I come with you?”

Another stupid question.

“If you want to come, how will you manage the baby and Hops?”

“I could leave them with Nana.  Get another person to come in during the day.  She won’t mind.  How long are you staying?”

“You haven’t finished weaning him yet.  What will you do with that?”

“How long are you staying?”  There was an unspoken question.  What arrangements have you made for you and him?

“I don’t know.”

I didn’t want to answer that because the answer was going to be as long as I can possibly make it and I don’t want you there.

She put on her resigned face and went out of the room, defeated. 

I knew she wouldn’t come to London, she wanted the red carpet and the parties but she could not realistically come with two children, one who was two the other a baby, nor could she leave one or both of them at home.  I went ahead with my plan to stay four days and five nights at Claridges, if Sony didn’t pay the full amount I would make up the difference, it was discreet we could have a suite, no one needed to know we were sharing a bedroom.

 

There was a knock on the door, as the door opens on our hotel suite, the journalist shyly pops his head around the door.

“Armie?  How are you?  Nice seeing you again, I put a question to you last year for First Shots Fired.  Pity that didn’t take off, I enjoyed that film.”

He was lying, he slated it – privately, and told me that I was a much better actor than the shit I had been appearing in – except he was more polite.  I forgave him because actually he was fair and always tried to put the best light on films that he reviewed.  He would rather not write the review that give a bad one.  I had asked for him specifically.

“It’s Timothee, isn’t it. Congratulations, I thought you were fantastic.” He had just left the bedroom and came over to join me on the sofa.

The fucker walked up to me and kissed me on the mouth, twice, in front of the journalist who did not blink.  Nicole just rolled her eyes.  She knew we were safe here in London, it might get reported but it would not create the craven reaction that it would if we were in New York or Los Angeles.

The journalist was kind, and spoke of love in terms which did not precisely differentiate us, Oliver and Elio. The film was receiving very good feedback, it brought us closer together. It was only in hindsight that the context and reference was fully understood.  In London, it became clear that we were a pair, a couple, Charmie come to life.

 

“Are you trying to get me killed?”

“You loved it.”

We rested in each other arms, we were happy.

 

“Don’t do it again.  We are trying to protect you, no more kissing, eye-fucking or hands on asses, yes I am talking to you about that last interview.” 

Nicole put on her sternest voice, Timothee just put his arms around her and pressed his nose into her neck, she tutted, then laughed softly.  He had a way of disarming people, she was soft around him, efficient and very capable but soft, he twisted her round his little finger.  He let me through to go out the door and I felt his hand slide down my back and under my jacket, he rubbed and squeezed my ass, I halted, then slowed, his hand slid into the crack of my ass, down and pressed his fingers there. She was ahead, and had no idea.  It was typical of our stay in London, reckless, an edge where anything could happen; it felt like our love was being cemented, but I had moved no further along with deciding upon a divorce, that would have to wait.

 

I felt protective of him, it showed and I did not mind.  I would watch to see if he faltered when being interviewed. He would look for approval in my face. I made sure he was rested, he had eaten, had water and watched and listened for his answers.  I became possessive, I wanted to be able to do things for him that showed I cared, that he did indeed belong to me.

We relied on each other, I would put my arm around his shoulders for photos, he rested against me, an arm around my waist, our physical closeness a comfort.  I would catch people looking at us, photographers trying to capture ‘that’ picture not realising that we were too far gone to care.  They could take as many pictures as they wanted. Evelyn and Nicole split us up to do interviews, on the line I would take the more difficult interviewers, he the young or friendly.  I would glance across to see how he was doing, sometimes not taking care, I was caught out a couple of times watching him and not listening.  I didn’t care, if I looked at too long and got picked up, I would just explain that it was all new to him and I felt I needed to watch out for him, he was young and inexperienced.  This was mostly taken at face value, the more experienced journalists just smiled, acknowledged our closeness with an upward turn of the eye and re-asked the question.

I look back and see those red carpet pictures of London and I realise that is when I knew I would have to have him and that when I got back, what I needed to tell Elizabeth.

 

 

January 2018

“You are not fucking coming to Crema.”

“I am.  Evelyn has already booked my flight, I am coming on a flight the next day.  Do you think you can go travelling with him, like he is your partner?  You want a divorce and to just up and run out on tour with him.  No, no, no it is not happening, we are going to do this properly. You aren’t going to shame me by taking that boy into your bed in full view of everyone. 

Anyway, how do I know that you even mean it?  You have never stuck to anything in your life.  If I hadn’t come along, God knows where you would be.  Have you told your parents yet?  No, I didn’t think so.  It is childish ‘I want’ behaviour, you haven’t resolved anything, you are just running away from your responsibilities.”

She softened and took a different tone with me.

“Armie, we have spent ten years together, we have been married for seven years.  We have two children, a life together.  Just wait until after Crema.  Wait and see.  When we are there we can find time to be together, we can have a mini break, stay on for a few days, talk and find out what we really want, work out if breaking up is really what you want.”

I looked at her.

“You have no idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“Really, you have no idea.  Come out to Crema. It will make no difference.  We are going to get divorced.  I am divorcing you, don’t say that this hasn’t been a long time coming.  Have you forgotten that we have already nearly split?  Have you forgotten that you left me for six months? Well, you didn’t quite leave did you?  There was at least two red carpets, and the Golden Globes and the Oscars to go to, we had to keep up an appearance then too.  Oh, I see you do remember.  Do you also remember that you did not sleep with me for nearly a year after you had Hops?  What was it? Tired?  Didn’t feel like it?  The pussy was sore, it was uncomfortable.  Do you remember?

I remember what it felt like to be your other child.  The one who could speak but wasn’t rational, do you remember that period too?  We so nearly made it didn’t we?  Another perfect child.  The perfect house.  The perfect daughter-in-law.  The perfect fucking lifestyle.  We have it all, don’t we?  We want for nothing.  And yet, here we are our lives in ashes.“

She flinched.

“Come to Crema.  I am still divorcing you.”

“I am trying not to say something that I will regret.  As we are being honest, let me tell you what I have been wanting to say.

You went to Crema last year and I know that we were not in a good place.  I know you were not sure about another child.  I wanted to try, I wanted you to stay with me, I still want you, I know you think that you have changed and met the love of your life.  I don’t think you have.  You are infatuated.  I know you think that this is your true self coming through, to love and and set up your life with a man. He isn’t even a man, he is a child. So, how can you be sure?  You spent ten years with a woman. Made love to that woman, had children with her. Naturally, and we enjoyed making them. Isn’t that true?

I have given you the best years of my life.  I broke my body giving you two children, yes, I recovered easily from those pregnancies but I have worked hard to give you back the perfect version of a woman who supported and loved you when you were a nobody.  And I have had to put myself back together so that I fit in that crazy perfect lifestyle that you wanted.  You want to be an actor, famous, a celebrity.  It is easy for you.  Look at you.  I have to put up with the shit that comes from being the wife.  I have had to fit in, make myself look like I am worth being your wife.  Look at me.  Yes I have changed but only so that I fit in.  Do you think I like doing this?

When you came back, you disappeared into yourself.  You were not present.  I should have thrown your ass out then.  Blatantly telling me you were in love.  What the fuck was I supposed to do?  I was pregnant.  This is a fucking mess, you are dicking a twenty-two year old, he wasn’t even old enough to drink when you first fucked him.  That is disgusting and pathetic.  Reverting back to that child man you were when I met you.

You were the one who wanted to provide your family with the perfect bride, the perfect wife and children.  What do you expect me to do?

Don’t give up on us Armie.  I want to come to Crema to support you in whatever you decide.  Evelyn thinks it is a good idea too.  It offers you protection.  I can accept you are confused at the moment, we don’t have to share a room. If I come it will make it seem like our marriage is intact.  That has two benefits, we can spend time together and you will still be able to see him.  The Civilians don’t need to know what is going on, our marriage will continue, no change, everything will stay the same for anyone looking on.

Look, I can put up with this for a while, give you time to see that we can still be good together or if you need it, time to assess what you really want.   Talk to him, we can make arrangements, I don’t mean share you like a toy between us.  Just be grown up and accept that we both need time with you.

We can leave Ford with Nana, just take Hops, that will make it easier.  That means that I can attend all the evening events we can leave her with the Hotel creche.  Their creche was good and the childcare excellent, remember we stayed in the same place last year.”

“Do what you want.”

She looked stricken, I didn’t care. I had tried reasoning with her, she grasped onto anything she felt was a solid reason for us to stay together. It hadn’t worked.  I knew what I wanted to do, eventually everyone would realise I meant it.

She came to Crema, and she didn’t fit in – it was our anniversary trip, she wasn’t there originally, and she shouldn’t have come now.  Later in Rome, when I really needed someone to talk to I went to him and everyone knew, the very thing she was trying to avoid had come to fruition.

 

I understood why Sony did it but it had a cataclysmic effect.  Armie basically packed up and was ready to take the next plane out of Italy.

“I don’t want to talk to that fucking woman.”

“Luca, don’t bother – I am done with this shit show.  Sony can stick it.  I don’t blame Michael it’s not his fault but if I saw him now I would not be responsible for my actions.  He knew what was going on and I didn’t and he was talking and chatting to me as if everything was straight between us.  Don’t bother telling me he didn’t know, I don’t fucking care don’t to try to reason with me.  I am seriously fucked off.  And anyone from Sony can fuck off too.”

“Peter, I don’t care about the contract, they can take any fucking money from me they want.  I am done with this crap.  I have broken my balls promoting this film for a year, a fucking year and they treat me like a piece of fucking shit.  I made this film work, without me it would never have got where it is.  I am not without understanding, if Tim and I had not bonded that film would never have got where it is.  If Tim and I had not been working hard on the promotion then nobody would be talking so seriously about this film.  Where is he, where’s Tim?  The rest of you can fuck off.”

By now people were taking up corners and moving off.  Peter stood his ground but was uncertain.  Luca went off to get a coffee, he understood.

I had been warned to stay away from him.  I knew it wasn’t a good idea.  Not because I believed I was the only person who could talk to him, I knew I would be the one he wanted to talk to.

“I’m here, Armie.”

“Are you coming with me?”

I sighed.  I couldn’t come with him and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“There is nothing to sigh about, go get your things.”

I sat on the bed, whilst he continued to walk about the room.  The others including TFW had gone back to their respective rooms.  He had to walk off some of the anger, underneath the anger was sorrow – it would come.  I knew how he was.  He was a man of deep feeling, the appearance of not caring first, then anger then deep sorrow normally expressed as self-loathing and depreciation.

I waited for something to be expressed.

He stopped near the window, he was wanting to speak.  He didn’t look at me.  I felt the emotions coming to the front of his brain, the pain was expressed through the falling of his face and the downward slope of his shoulders.  I got up and put my arms around him as he started to cry.

“Why do people treat me like this?  I feel like a piece of shit.  I have met people who I know will be in my life for ever.  It isn’t just the artistic achievement that is tainted, it’s like someone said you are not worthy of the regard this film bought you and that must also include anything else that happened.  Can you imagine how I feel?

This was my best chance of being nominated for an Oscar. I have been in this business seriously for ten years and I never got close before.  This film has given me everything I ever wanted.  I got respect for my acting. I haven’t had that since the Social Network – that was six years ago.  The Lone Ranger fell apart and the Man from Uncle just never made it.  This was my chance and I didn’t fuck it up.  It got taken away from me by manoeuvring for awards.  It didn’t need to happen.  If they told me that they felt Michael had a better chance and campaigned for him I could live with it but they told me they were campaigning for me, and then split the fucking vote so neither of us got nominated.”

I let him talk.  He had more to say.

“Do you know how it feels to be always brought down and not feel that anything you achieve is really respected.  All my life I have been regarded as the one who fucks up, it is so hard to have something come to me unsought and then have it taken away without it being my fault.  I felt like I was turning a corner, everything was beginning to go right for me.  I felt like I could revive my career, it wasn’t only Luca who saw something I was getting a lot of buzz.  People were talking about me in a positive way in relation to my work not my personal circumstances or my family.  In my own right and in relation to my work.  I don’t know where to go from here.  It is all just shit.”

I felt ready to talk but I let him continue.

“I don’t know if I want to carry on with this, I feel like it is a waste of time…What do you think I should do?”

“I don’t know what you are asking me Armie.  Are you asking me about Call Me By Your Name or about your career?”

I wasn’t really sure what to say.  I needed time to gather my thoughts and also to make sure that I was talking about what he was talking about.  I hadn’t told him, but I knew that I was beyond in love with him.  I came across as a giggly mess when I was with him but I felt like I knew him and I knew what was best for him, what made him happy.  I just needed him to ask himself what it was that he wanted to give up.

I watched him turn the ideas around in his head.  The questions ran around his eyes.  He was no closer to deciding, the quandary was still there.  But if he was speaking about his career that was too big a decision to make. He was only 30, it was too soon to give up.

“Armie come onto the bed with me.” 

I walked over to the king sized bed.  It was big enough to hold us both comfortably, I wanted him to feel comfortable, to feel me holding him, safe, something he could trust. I got onto the bed, sat legs out straight.  I wanted him to come and rest on me.  He didn’t argue, like an obedient child he came and lay alongside me, his head in my lap his body close to my legs, I scooted down the bed, now my head rested on the upright pillow rather than my back.  He placed his head on my chest, our hearts were very close.  I felt like we were one, together, he was soft and pliant. The fight had gone out of him.  Now he was ready to consider.

“hmm… let me ask you again, are you asking me about Call Me By Your Name or about your career?”

My fingers brushed and caressed his head, ear and neck.  It gave him time to think.

“I am not sure…probably not my career.  That is too dramatic.  I feel like I am in a hole.  I ran off my mouth downstairs.”

“Yes you did.”

“I was so mad, I just wanted to make it clear they couldn’t tell me what to do.  I know I can’t walk off the tour.”

He’d answered his own question.  I would just have to let him talk himself out of this.

“You’re not saying anything.  What do you think?”

“Well… I wouldn’t walk off the tour.  What would that achieve?  I’d have satisfaction of disrupting everything. But it goes nowhere to resolving how I feel.”

I spoke as if I were him.  That way it was less combative, it should feel like these were my words about myself, not words that I was using to persuade him.

“Why are you so reasonable?  I am not you I am used to laying waste and then going back to repair whatever damage I caused. I know myself Timmy, destroy, wait, repair.  We are currently in the wait period.  I am not promising those bastards anything.”

The spark which I loved about him, came to the fore, he wasn’t really angry to me or about me. He had to release the feeling in order to get the brain engaged and working logically.

“They are fucking bastards.  They have treated me like shit.  Why should I help them?”

“You are not helping them, you are helping yourself.  If you don’t continue the tour, then other film companies will look twice at you.  You know that already.  Why give them the satisfaction of not hiring you and avoiding drama.”

I gave it to him straight.

“You might be mad but it serves little or no purpose to wind up people who would turn around and bad mouth you.  Play it straight Armie, don’t give them reason to make your life difficult.  It’s tough enough without giving cause for bad feeling.  Everybody loves your performance, and everybody is saying that it is the best thing you have done since Social Network, don’t throw away this opportunity.”

He fell quiet.

“Fucker.”

“I am telling you the truth. You might hate them but they have you by your balls.  Give up the tour, give up your reputation. Also they will withhold some of your money, or have you already received all your money?”

He fell quiet again.  I knew then that he was on a percentage.  He didn’t have to do the tour. That’s why he was so certain about giving it all up. It made me think of my own circumstances.  I wasn’t going to cause a fuss.  I was new to the game.  I knew my place. He was established I was the ingenue, I was being fucked and I had to like it, I might talk to Brian.

He contemplated. A decision.

“I shan’t say anything.  Fuck’em. I’ll continue. They own my fucking soul.  But they cannot change my heart.  I’ll do this fucking tour.  I don’t want to talk about this any more.  Come down here.”

 

Oscars 2018

“What are you wearing?”

“You’ll see.”

“What has Haider done?”

“LOL”

“See you later babe.”

 

I was so proud of him.  I regretted not getting the nomination but and still, he deserved his nomination.  I just hoped that a washed up old British actor wasn’t going to steal his prize with a fat suit.

<Have you left yet?>

<Just in the hotel reception>

<Send a pic>

<No you have to wait.  What are you wearing?>

<LOL>

 

I looked out for him, it was a sea of faces and pantomime outfits.  I couldn’t see him. He was behind me, he knew that he had to stay out of my sight.

“Where are we sitting?”

That brought me back to reality.

“You’ve got the tickets, I am not sure - did you check the seating plan?  Anyway, we can move after the first set of awards, I want to move down at the first break, we are somewhere in the middle.  Timmy is sitting near the front – he’s a nominee, you know how it works.”

“Don’t make a fool of yourself.”

“Are you going to start a fucking argument?”

The driver turned up the music, he didn’t like our tone, he could barely hear what we had to say and more importantly, didn’t want to or have honour the NDA.  Best to turn a deaf ear.

No more than a few words passed our lips the whole time we were waiting in the pen to go on the red carpet.  It was taking too fucking long and I knew we’d have to do the normal stupid interviews along the way, show we were a happily married couple, which was furthest from the truth. I played along but the whole time, I was watching, for him.

 

<Where are you?>

<Drinking fucking champagne, like a good boy>

<Good boys in my opinion should be doing something else…you know what things>

He was making me feel such things.

 

“Who are you texting?”

“Timmy”

I put the phone away and joined her in the photo booth.  My jaw began hurting from the false smiles.

Some cursory conversations.  I also met a few people I hadn’t seen for a while.  David Fincher came over for a hug (he was also having a hard time) and Jeff Kleeman deigned to come and have a word. I passed Luca like a ship in the night.  He was in a big group including Fernandino, Howard, Rodrigo and other producer types.  I caught him and said I’d see him in the theatre. He nodded and hooked his head at Liz.  I just raised my eyebrows to let him know I was coping.

“At least make some effort, stop looking like someone who would be anywhere else but with his wife, and remember I am still your wife.”

Then I saw him.

Nicole was just finalising with him who he was to talk with,  I know the drill, some interviews are set up, others taken on the wing depending on timing, whim and opportunity.  His Mom and Dad were just behind, Pauline had stopped to talk to someone she knew.  He hadn’t seen me.  He was on the main red carpet walking through, I was still drinking champagne in the Piper Heidsieck suite.  Their champagne is shit, give me Louis Roederer any time.  Well I had only had two glasses, couldn’t risk either being sick or having to go to the bathroom.  Elizabeth wasn’t drinking really, she had the same glass that she had started with.

I digress.  I haven’t mentioned how he looked.  My heart had stopped.  The suit was perfect, I knew immediately who had designed it, it was designed for him and he looked ethereal in it.  It wasn’t white, a soft off white it set off his ivory skin, mouth and hair. I wanted to go over and destroy him.  My mind was drawn back to the last time I had seen him in that off white colour.  It was late Summer, we were on a short break away from California, his t-shirt looked like a rag  but it was expensive made by someone called Virgil Abloh.

He was always standing off centre, never quite in the crowd, we were with some old family friends, not every one knew about us but a fair number suspected. We couldn’t help it.  When ever we are in a room together, we search for each other.  If we are standing, we’d sway towards each other even across the room. It’s like there is a line between us, taut and electric.  My body was drawn to him, craving soft and hard, hands making involuntary movements, sometimes I had to pick up a child to stop myself.  Elizabeth thought it was something that would blow over.  She was initially quite understanding.  She had no idea, and she was wrong.  Whenever I could I would get him on his own, if there was bathroom free, I’d pull him in and get on my knees.  I would switch, whatever bought him pleasure I would do.  Mostly I’d drag off his pants, he never wore underwear once we got together, a few tugs, suck and fuck.  If he wanted to fuck me, I’d bend elbows over the washbasin or whatever was handy, I didn’t even need him to prepare me, he could fuck me dry.  Ashton caught him giving me a blowjob in the kitchen after we thought everyone had gone to bed, he apologised, laughed and backed out of the room. I could not get enough of him, he was like a fucking drug.  After we nearly got caught a second time by Elizabeth in one of the bedrooms, we decided that we would have to wait until we got back to California before we fucked again.  It was only a few days.  Figuratively, I sat on my hands and waited. I was on edge the next day, we were returning the day after.  I was on tenterhooks, in proximity and forbidden to touch.  He savoured the wait, felt it would make our coming together more sweet.  He was right.

We got back on a Sunday, it was still a holiday period for the children.  Hops was attending pre-school, she had a couple of weeks left.  We had a couple of weeks before either work or other commitments meant we had to separate.  I sent Elizabeth off with the children, I primed her with the idea that it would be nice for her and the children to see her parents before the  drudgery of school life and the Autumn meant that it would be difficult to spend time in Colorado.  She did look at me, but choose to take the children without too much dissension.  Timmy had gone back to New York, he had some pre-production work to do on the ill-fated A Rainy Day.  In the event I didn’t see him, I was called in to do some work on On the Basis of Sex which was filming later that year.

So he came and saw me in Montreal whilst I was on a break from filming.  No-one knew why he was there.  He came and spent a long weekend.  We had four days and four nights together.  There was no time during that trip that we were not in touching distance, starting with the drive to our chalet.  His hands would slip between my legs when we drove to Lac Simon, soft music played, hands drifting up to my neck, pushing between my back and seat, lifting my shirt and sweater to stroke my skin. We had found a discreetly located chalet on the waterfront with views on three sides over the water.  Nobody could invade our privacy, we took food and supplies with no intention of leaving the chalet once we got there.  Neither of us were looking to go for walks or visit local amenities we went there to spend time together, to deepen our relationship.

I had to warn him a couple of times, his hands roamed up my thighs and onto my dick, which he squeezed into hardness, then stroked so that I felt like there was flame running around my groin.  I took his hand away, it was too much.  We hadn’t been together for nearly two months, it was now early November.  There was some snow and the car was equipped for driving in this weather but I wanted to get there in one piece and if he carried on like this I couldn’t guarantee staying on the road.

“You little shit. Take your hands off me.”

Instead he undid my trousers and my dick sprung free. He put his mouth on me.  I had to slow down and pull over. I wanted to relax, open and stretch my legs out, the better to fully feel him – the seat needed to go back.  He pulled his trousers off and got on my lap.

“Jesus Tim. Someone might see us.”

He just smirked at me.

“Drive further off road, down the track there are trees to cover us.”

“I can’t fucking see.”

He moved off to one side , still in my lap but now off centre and close to the door on my side. I drove onto a rougher track deeper off-road and stopped, the car couldn’t easily be seen if at all, daylight was failing. The clearing was perfect, soft light, hardly any sound just us breathing, private.

“Come on, I want to ride you.”

He sat so that both dicks were freely rubbing against each other, close enough that we could both feel each other against our stomachs, hard and running pre-come.  He started whispering and licking my throat.

“Do you feel me?  I am wet for you baby.”

His tongue slipped into my mouth, I opened to receive, he pressed harder against my stomach, his legs hooked up against the side of my body.  I could feel his dick and his balls, he started to rub his seam against my balls.  I groaned.

He pushed his hand between us and began to stroke himself.  I moved mine to his ass, pulled his cheeks apart so I could get fingers lined up ready to stick one of them into him, he was flexible he opened his legs wider.  I felt like I could come just from this exposure of his body, and his smell alone.

“Let’s get in the back.”

“Timmy, I am still gonna need to sit, you can’t lie down, there’s not enough room for me.”

“Let’s get in the back. I’ll ride you.  I don’t want to knock the hand-brake off.  I can’t wait I wanna fuck.”

He folded himself up, lined his body up with mine, spat on his hand, a few strokes and slid down.  It was like an out of body experience, the sensation was unbelievable because I had waited so long to experience this again, I was lost, could not speak and was no better than a dazed fool.

“Do you like that baby?  Can you feel me squeeze you?”

He had seated himself on me, and then started to kiss me.  I did indeed feel him begin to squeeze my dick, enclosing it, the warm flesh made my dick harder, the ring of his hole was feeling intense, my balls were tightening, the kiss got deeper.

He pulled off me, leant back and rubbed himself again against my balls, inviting me to hold onto his cock and start jerking him off.   Now it was his turn, his legs fell outwards while I roughly stroked him, I could feel his hole begin pulsing against my leg.

“Get back on.”

There wasn’t much room, but he managed to control his legs and lift himself off and on my dick until I came.  When my orgasm started, he grabbed hold of his own dick, leant back again and brought his own orgasm.  We were a mess.  He leaked my cum, his cum was all over my front, some was in my hair, some had gone somewhere in the car.

“Fuck, what a mess – I am gonna have to valet the car before I hand it back.”

“Yeah. Nevermind.”   He was dreamy, lost in the after glow.

He got off, he knew how sensitive my dick got when I had had an orgasm.  He shrugged on his trousers and a sweater, it was beginning to get cold, we had turned off the engine to avoid being spotted. All the car lights were out.  The day had moved from daylight to twilight.  It was now dark which was just as well, we got out and moved back into the front of the car.  He was in socks, I had kept my boots on, we both looked down at our feet and laughed.

When we got to the chalet, the owner took one shady look at us and rushed through the induction.  She was trying to work out how she knew us, but couldn’t quite put a name on me, Tim she definitely did not know. We couldn’t wait to get rid of her and take a shower.  We took one together and went straight to bed – taking bottles of water with us, nothing else was needed, there was a tv in the bedroom, we fell asleep to James Stewart’s ‘It’s a Wonderful Life.’  The rest of the weekend consisted sleeping, eating and fucking.  I was very happy I needed nothing else. I had all I needed in him.

 

There are a variety of videos and pictures from the Oscars, I wasn’t entirely on top of what was happening there.  For one thing I wasn’t well, well what I mean is I hadn’t been well and perhaps what I had taken interfered with my ability to maintain what some would call decorum or a sense of what constructed good behaviour.  I freely admit, once I had seen him I wanted to be by his side, Elizabeth might as well not have been there, and that was her bad luck.   It wasn’t even lust, something indefinable overtook me, looking from the outside it looked like I wanted to mark him out as mine, it wasn’t that, it wasn’t lust…it was pure desire, for him.  More than that, I wanted, no needed to support him I have no side where he is concerned it gives me as much pleasure when he succeeds or wins an award, as having the same happen to me.  In fact the joy is indescribable because I take pleasure in witnessing his joy, and I experienced intense feelings which came from watching someone whom I deeply love being lauded in that way. That night my heart literally hung suspended in my chest, he is a soul deep part of me which I cannot be separated from, he is an integral part of me and it is the perceiving of this even while I observed him, which let me know that I cannot do without him.  That is what everyone saw that night.  I couldn’t hide it, then or now.


	3. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are times when in order to get what you want, there is pain to be suffered. Image is all and not everything is as it appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, I don't know these people or what really happened. Let me repeat, this is fiction, some things look close to truth but I was not there I do not know what really happened.
> 
> Suffice to say there is sufficient stuff going on in the real world to inspire some fanfic.

‘What have they asked you to do?’

Armie sounded incredulous.

‘What the fuck?’

Timmy was on the end of the call, biting his lip.  He told Armie everything but this time he wondered if it was a good idea.  Nicole had been on the phone earlier that week, she explained that she and Evelyn had been having an on and off discussion about his personal circumstance. The conversation went along these lines.

Nicole: Hey Tim, how are things?

Tim: Hey Nicole, Great, So happy we got the contract sorted, really looking forward to getting started, anyway, I’m just about to eat I got to see my Mom before she leaves for Paris, need to get a move on, still got to get some things for her, what can I do for you?

Nicole: I won’t keep you, can you pop into the office this week, there’s something we need to sort out

Tim: Really?  OK, when?

Nicole: What about tomorrow?  We are both in the office, you could drop by at 11?

Tim: Give me a heads up

Nicole: TIFF

Tim: What?

Nicole: TIFF

Tim: What about TIFF?

Nicole: Let’s discuss it when you come in?

Tim: No, you can discuss it with me now.  What did I do?

Nicole:  Look Tim, we are trying to protect you.  Don’t be upset.

Tim: I am not upset, I just need you to tell me what we did wrong.  Cos it was both Armie and I wasn’t it?  It isn’t just me that you want to discuss this with?

Nicole:  Let’s discuss it when you come in.

Tim: Right.

Nicole: You are coming?  See you tomorrow.

 

Memories of TIFF, the event and the days before came flooding back to him.  He had gone backstage after Armie’s show.

‘Wow, you were great Armie.  I loved it.’

They were surrounded by people, he couldn’t kiss him and it had been so long since he had been able to hold him.  When he arrived he had purposefully gone straight to his seat, baseball hat pulled down low, some scruffy dark chinos, t-shirt, jumper and very old sneakers made up the outfit.  He didn’t stick out.  No-one recognised him, well no-one came up to him, afterwards there were a couple of pictures of the back of his neck but no disruption.  He left with the crowd and was escorted backstage, no fuss he blended in.

Armie pinned him to the wall as soon as they got back to the hotel, dinner eaten, introduction to Armie’s father done.  No-one else to please except themselves.  Armie turned him round, dragged off his trousers and started eating ass.

‘Fuck, what’s that?’

‘You know what that is…I was preparing for you…I wanted to be able to take you first time and it’s been a long time since we fucked. The remote is in my bag’

Armie immediately got hard, pulling at the front of his trouser to make room. He fetched the remote, pressed it tentatively, Timmy rose on the balls of his feet.

‘Shit…that feels good…do it again…’

Armie knelt.

‘Lift your leg’

Timmy felt his ass open slightly the plug moved with him increasing his pleasure, Armie continued to hold his leg, lifting it higher, a touch from his tongue underneath along his seam.  Timmy groaned, the sound travelling down his throat and rolling back up again as a moan.

His dick responded by stiffening, hard enough to draw his balls up.  Armie grasped his leg, his thumb stroking the soft flesh inside, pressing a bruise which he would treasure, an aid to remembrance of the moment later, the other hand held the remote and rolled it in the groove between groin and hip on the other side of his body, it helped that Armie’s hands were huge and strong.  The soft buzz of the remote was heard again.  Timmy’s leg buckled, the plug was pressing against his prostate, he was beginning to get the familiar tingle, urge driving through his body, he wanted to orgasm, if Armie didn’t take it out now, he would come on the next press of the remote.

‘Take it out, I want you to fuck me, I’m close…’

 

When Timmy got to TIFF a few days later, he had spent three nights with Armie, he was glowing with the sex they had had, loved up spiritually and physically fucked out.  It was evident.  People commented.  He wore clothes that reflected how he felt. It was noticed.  Armie was due in town a couple of days later and couldn’t wait to resume the sex, they both burned for each other.

 

‘Why do we have to go?’

‘You don’t have to come.’

‘Evelyn has told me I have to go where you go.  Timmy is in town.’

‘I could give two fucks.  It’s up to you.’

Another car, another argument.

 

Armie and Elizabeth arrived at the after party venue, a well known club come dining venue, the basement held banquettes and small tables.  Armie didn’t wait.  He knew where his lover was and he wasn’t going to wait.  Elizabeth followed, she was wary – there were no friends here to help her.  The people here were all for Timmy or the BB cast or crew, she hung back looking around, relieved when she spotted a couple of people who were at the STBY screening, she left Armie and went across.  He followed to maintain some kind of correct behaviour, had a few words, polite and only sufficient to maintain manners, all the while working out who else he had to say hello to before he could escape.  He spent around twenty minutes in that first room, looked for Elizabeth, took her elbow and drew her into the basement when he could hear his lover singing an American Songbook classic accompanied by a piano, their song, My Funny Valentine.  Timmy had started the first unfamiliar verse:

‘Behold the way our fine feathered friend,

His virtue doth parade

Thou knowest not, my dim-witted friend

The picture thou hast made

Thy vacant brow, and thy tousled hair

Conceal thy good intent

Thou noble upright truthful sincere,

And slightly dopey gent…’

 

Armie stood just along from the door, not hiding, visible but not standing out, the room went quiet.  He didn’t come forward, Timmy’s eyes gravitated to him as iron to a magnet – he knew when Armie was in the room and he sensed where he was, he didn’t need to be told.  Armie had nothing to do except stand there and bathe in the attention he received from Timmy’s whole being, his focus now completely on Armie, the rest of room stood still hearts in mouth, all breath rising and falling as one in the hollow of their throats, pulse caught feeling that tension between two lovers which needs no explanation. Liz hung back redundant and to be frank feeling every pain real and imagined of a rejected lover.  Armie was gone, his face was soft, eyes glistening, body relaxed and urgent at the same time.  At the end of the song, Armie came forward and Timmy ran towards him, all their arms open ready to greet as lovers.

Two days later they had dinner together, and Armie posted a story on Instagram including music and a starry hazy tint featuring Timmy which made it look like the dinner was the most romantic thing he had ever experienced. He referenced love and the fact he had never felt this way before and unmistakably made clear he was in love with Timothée.  He had never posted anything like this, not even for his wife. 

Evelyn was furious.  Things were going to change.

 

‘Well, you’re married?’

‘I was married when we got together, nothing’s changed?’

‘People suspect?’

‘Suspect what?’

‘Armie, don’t be dense.  You tell anyone who asks when you last saw me, that you FaceTime me virtually everyday.  You blush when you talk about me?  There’s pictures of us at after parties?  The story of you inviting me to sit down. You posted that fucking story on Insta. People have caught on.’

‘Nobody knows for sure.  It is just speculation.’

‘Well, Amazon have spoken to Nicole, told us to tone it down.’

‘Tone what down?’

‘Armie please.’

‘Listen, I don’t really give a fuck.  It’s not like I see you all the time, nobody has ever caught us somewhere we shouldn’t be.’

They both laugh because they know this is not strictly speaking true.

 ‘They don’t have to fucking catch us Armie, fandom and media have insight.’

‘What?’

‘Jesus, Elizabeth posts your whole fucking life on Instagram.  The fans co-relate where we are and whether we are on Social Media, if the activity happens at the same time or in close proximity and work it out from there, they can use what we wear, the time, when we were last seen, who saw us...then they post it and the media pick it up.  Sometimes it’s hilariously wrong other times they have it so fucking accurate.

 Anyway, I am not going to get into that with you. Evelyn and Nicole want me to have a girlfriend.’

‘I heard you the first time, it isn’t happening.  What does Brian think?’

‘He isn’t against the idea, he has some reservations.’

‘What reservations?’

‘For a start we have to find someone suitable and who isn’t going to blab, and work out what’s a suitable duration for contract to have impact..’

‘I don’t want you to do it.’

‘You don’t have a choice in this.  In fact Evelyn is going to ask you to step up your presence in Social Media with Elizabeth, emphasise you’re happily married.’

Armie fell quiet.  His dependency on Elizabeth was increasing instead of decreasing, it wasn’t something he wanted to face.  Is this why Timmy is being asked to do it, to provide cover for their relationship?  Or is it to prove to the industry that he can play straight?

‘What does your Mom say?’

‘I haven’t asked her.  I can’t tell her that I have to have a girlfriend so I can continue to get work, she’d laugh at me. She thinks it is time someone called out the hypocrisy of Hollywood - gay men imposing heterosexuality on other gay men. We also discussed you, how our relationship might affect my career.  What she really thinks is I should do whatever I feel comfortable with; so long as I do not compromise myself, am authentic and do what I really believe in.  She doesn’t have a problem with who I sleep with, male or female, so long as I am happy, honest with myself and with the person concerned.  She likes you Armie, she wouldn’t see you if she didn’t.  It’s a blessing that she does, ‘cos I don’t know what I would do if she didn’t. My Mom’s opinion is very important to me, and, you know my Dad, if I like you he will try to like you too.  This isn’t really about us, it is about me – you get a free pass, you’re married.’

Again Armie fell quiet.  He was between a rock and a hard place, he knew that Evelyn wouldn’t speak to him she would speak with Elizabeth.  If she did that the job was done, because she knew Armie would just fall into line with whatever both of them wanted on this front.  As much as he did his own thing and Elizabeth had to go along with it, if Evelyn consulted with Elizabeth and they agreed he had to fall in line. When this had happened in the past it had worked out OK.  Times were different now and the only reason he might begin to sweat was if Evelyn and Elizabeth chose the girlfriend, then he was fucked. 

Otherwise he gave less than two shits about the whole thing.  The fans more or less knew, the general public knew nothing and cared less, and the Industry knew everything.  What were they trying to prove?  It didn’t make sense, Tim’s star was rising but he still had to make an impact on the wider public. It wasn’t going to cost him anything, the person who had the most to lose was Tim.  If it wasn’t handled properly Tim would end up looking a fool; Hiddleston came to mind. He had destroyed his credibility by embarking on ‘Hiddleswift’, it wasn’t even funny – that whole episode was pathetic. He couldn’t help smirking, what a tool. His natural optimism and good humour came to the fore.

‘Tell them all to fuck off.  I don’t want to discuss it any more.  I am flying up tomorrow, do you wanna meet on Thursday night you can tell me how it went, we can have dinner and then we can fuck, and they can fuck themselves.  I fly back Saturday, we’ll have a few days, and nights, together.’

Timmy felt Armie’s eyebrows and mouth corners rising, his face all goofy.

‘You’re not fucking taking this seriously.  It doesn’t really affect you, all you have to do is wait for Liz to story and grab her ass or boost that fucking bakery.  I actually have to date or fucking pap walk whoever they choose. I can’t with this.’

The phone beeped in acknowledgement of the call ending.  Armie didn’t bother to call him back, he would just snap and he was going to see him in a couple of days any way.  Best leave things alone for the next day or so, he’d FaceTime him when he was in bed.  He had ways of making him relax and forgetting his problems.

 

‘Hey Timmy, buzz me in.’

‘Fuck Off’

‘What?’

Armie stood outside Tim’s apartment.  He could not stand there for very long, he’d be spotted, it wasn’t often that a 6’ 5” man in a baseball cap and Californian tan stood outside that apartment block.  Someone would recognise him.

‘Tim, you motherfucker, let me in.’

‘From one bed to another.’

‘What!’

‘I saw that story, you can fuck right off.’

Armie swore under his breath.

‘I am not fucking her.’

‘It doesn’t look like it.’

‘She was picking the children up. I am not fucking her.’

By now people passing by were beginning to pay attention.

‘Look if you aren’t going to let me in, I am going to the hotel, I’m in our normal suite.  Give me a call, I’m not going anywhere.’

 

Well, before Armie left New York without seeing him, he seethed and sought reassurance, so he spoke with Tim’s Mom Nicole, who gave him short shrift despite him telling her that he had temporarily moved out of the family home, a precursor to possibly finding a home for himself and Timmy.

‘It doesn’t matter if you aren’t sleeping with her, Armie.  It is how it looks, and it looks like you and your wife are together and happy.  How do you think Tim feels?  He has to fake some kind of romance just so he looks straight, or to protect himself if you really get divorced? Which is it Armie? No-one knows, Evelyn is leading on this, he has no choice, he is the junior partner in all of this.  You appear to be escaping scrutiny.  It’s all on Tim.  Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around.’

She hadn’t waited for an answer.  He was now in a quandary.  He wanted to go and rage at Liz but realised he didn’t know what for.  It didn’t occur to him that he needed to take some responsibility and work out how to present his situation in a way which was fair to all parties.  He had just gone with whatever way the wind blew and in the direction of the strongest gust, regardless of how this reflected on him or the situation.  And he still did not completely understand what the problem was.  None of it was real.  The presentation was all fake, all of it, so what did it matter if Elizabeth was in his bed?  The picture was just for the Gram.  He had a sneaking admiration of her, she was strong minded, the nasty comments just ran straight off her back. There were times when her behaviour was totally unacceptable, and other times when he understood why he had married her because basically they were kindred spirits.  He still admired her ability to withstand physical pain, two natural births no gas, air or epidural, she could fly him off a map and she could go drink for drink with him.  Yes, she was that woman, a total embarrassment at times but, she had tamed and taught him, he appreciated that and she had given him two children who were the apples of his mother’s eye.  This was important. She had saved him, without her he would not have been the man that could fall in love with a beautiful boy.  What was the fucking problem?

 

The problem hit him when he got off the plane through immigration and customs, when the uber driver who was a regular and who had driven him and Tim to a variety of hotels, started smirking.

He opened his phone, went into Instagram and there on a Charmie account was a picture that went straight to his solar plexus, Timmy kissing some girl.  He sat for some moments.  His face and the back of his neck flushed, his heart was racing, the left leg started jumping as it did in times of panic and crisis.  He took some deep breaths, rested a moment and texted Evelyn.  She called him back.

‘Hey Armie, how are you?  Do you like the pictures?’

Pictures.

‘Excuse me Evelyn but what the fuck is this?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The picture of Timmy with that girl.  Why is he kissing her? I thought they were going to be just seen on the street or at a dinner or something.’

‘Oh they were, but Tim decided to step it up.  He liked her, they got on and he felt comfortable with what you see.’

‘Who is she?’

Evelyn laughed. Unintentionally cruel.

‘You don’t recognise her?’

Some silence.

‘She’s the younger sister of Jamie Douglas.  Her name is Missy, real name is Jane. You know the family, they own half of Park Avenue.  You’ve stayed in their hotel, I think you and Elizabeth may even have had dinner with her father. That’s how we got them together, Tim had already met her at the hotel, and Elizabeth knows her…she recommended her…you’ve met her, don’t you remember? The time before last you were in New York?  The long weekend with Elizabeth for Ashton’s birthday?’

More silence.

‘Armie'

‘I’ll call you back.’

 

Now it had truly hit him. He knew it was all fake, but this hurt him.  Indeed what was the problem?  He tried to rationalise it, it wasn’t real and it would help Tim.  A stream of incoherent thought and swearing ran through his mind.  The little fucker did not tell him that it was all already planned, effected and ready for operation.

 

He rang Tim. No response.  He put the phone in his lap.  Tried to gather himself together again.

'I’ve changed my mind, I’m not going home. Take me to Sunset Towers.'

Picked up his phone tried again.

 

‘Tim, get your ass down here.’

‘Why do you think I can just drop everything and fly seven hours to Los Angeles?  I have some fittings tomorrow, some publicity schedules to run through with Nicole as well.  What is so urgent that I have come to you immediately…

Oh, I see, the pictures.’

Tim waited.  Armie was holding his breath, counting down the silence between them.

‘Now you see Armie, do you understand why I was upset?  How does it feel to see your boyfriend kissing someone else?’

The phone went dead.

Armie re-dialled, it went to voicemail.

‘Take me back…fuck it, take me home.’

 

Elizabeth didn’t take umbrage at his sullen demeanour, she had seen the pictures.

‘Do you want a drink? I can make you something.’

‘I don’t want anything, leave me alone.’

He took his things upstairs to the guest suite, he wasn’t in the mood to socialise with anyone.

 

‘Nicky, What do I do?’

‘You made your bed, now lie in it. You think it is OK to cheat on your wife with a boy?  You’re even contemplating leaving her, aren’t you?  I have been your friend for twenty years, I thought I knew you. You used to be honourable and deserving of our support. Elizabeth has been nothing but understanding about this whole situation.  She could have made your life very difficult.  You have given no consideration to how this will work in real life, I won’t say you are selfish because I can see how it has affected you, but at some point you had a choice and you choose him not your family.’

‘If I could have changed things I would have Nicky, but I love him.’

Armie was a picture of helplessness, his face cracked, his demeanour yielding.  He was asking Nicky to understand him and understand that if he had had some control in the matter he would have used it. He felt struck down with love for Tim.  There were times when he was inchoate with lust and admiration, his mind crossed over into memory of those times when he rambled unable to define or express his feelings, or answer a simple question when asked.

‘I can’t help it. You know things have not been great with Liz, for years we have been up and down, we nearly split for God’s sake. Tim came to me at the right time and I need him in my life.’

The look Nicky gave him bordered on on distaste.  His friend, wild at times, generous and supportive had turned into someone who bore no resemblance to his former self.  He knew that Armie was attracted to other men, but he had always found a way of managing this side of himself, either through meaningless hook ups or uncomplicated short-term relationships, more importantly with people who were at his level socially and equally in fear of being found out.  This was entirely unexpected and different.

‘If you are asking me to condone what you are doing, I can’t do that.  If I can help Elizabeth I will, don’t expect me to come to your aid.  If you want help with either Harper or Ford, I’ll be there, just don’t ask me to accept your ‘love’ affair or whatever you care to call it.’

 

Armie was shattered, he felt like he walking on broken paving slabs , walkable but liable to tip you over into pain and anguish, everything was his fault. There was nobody who would stand up for him.  Except Tim, even in this period where they were not talking, he would come to his aid.  They only had to talk.  He laid siege.

 

The concierge rang. 

‘I have a parcel for you Mr Chalamet.’

‘I’m not expecting anything, what is it Danny?’

‘I don’t know.  It came via UPS.  Do you want me to bring it up?’

‘I’ll come down.’

A dozen long stemmed white roses, a note with Armie’s beautiful cursive: ‘I remember that night in March, you were my cherub, lithe and rosy lipped. I send you white roses for your white suit.  My Beautiful Boy. I love you’

Timmy stood there for a moment, and then a moment longer.  He was standing a long time.

‘Do I need to sign?’

‘No, Mr Chalamet’

The next day Armie sent him the jumper he had been wearing the last time they met.  It smelt of him, he slept in it to make sure.  The following day, a bracelet from Cartier, one Tim had commented on and said he liked.  The day after, a Beano, a note: ‘My fleet footed darling, never a step wrong, always in my heart, my feet are ready to fly to you.’  The comic was a reminder of London and a walk down Fleet Steet where there was an office for the publisher of The Beano.  The comic was dated 10th October, 2017 one of the dates the film ran at the London Film Festival and the day of their walk. A day later some Glass Apple weed arrived, representing their visit to MOMA for a screening of Call Me By Your Name, a night that Armie had stayed with Tim in his small apartment, the note: ‘For fucking…with me…you can’t use it for hand jobs.’  Followed by a Tiffany necklace with the numbers 7, 9, 1 and 8 representing the date that Beautiful Boy premiered at TIFF, a note with the date of their dinner and a hand drawn heart, two kisses and a photo of the IG Story and the words, ‘You are my world, I don’t deserve you but you must trust in the fact I would do anything for you. I love you.’

Every day for two weeks Armie sent a symbol of his love, Tim grew increasingly anxious he didn’t know how to handle this.  In the end his mother told him to call and stop being an idiot.  Her words exact and to the point: ‘He loves you, he may behave stupid but he loves you, give him a chance. Who else is going to love you like this?  This type of love doesn’t come round often, call him.’

 

‘Will you present my award?’

‘Of course, when?’

 

‘What the fuck, what is the matter with you?’

‘I spoke no lies.  You are my lover, and you are my Oliver.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell, I lied. I can't believe what I am currently seeing (December 2018) and I thought there is so much to inspire additional instalments that I had to add to the first chapter. I still think that the final chapter will come after the Oscars in March 2019.
> 
> This is not intended to be a detailed story, and I won't be updating this on a regular basis, originally I thought Chapter 2 would come after the Oscars.
> 
> This is fiction, I don't know these people or what really happened. Let me repeat this is fiction, some things look close to truth but I was not there I do not know what really happened.
> 
> Suffice to say there is sufficient stuff going on in the real world to inspire some fanfic.


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